Rewriting Destinies
by jedi-josh
Summary: MissingSceneOneShot. What goes through the mind of a father who's given up almost everything he holds dear, when he's asked to sacrifice the last thing he holds precious? Rated T for mild language


**Rewriting Destinies**

"Then my father truly is dead."

I watched as the stormtroopers led Luke to the lift, taking him to my shuttle resting on the pad above us. The words were softly spoken, but carried with them a non-verbal slap the likes of which I hadn't felt in over 20 years. I gripped the hilt of my son's lightsaber tightly in my fists, the ripple of anger that I felt at his verbal denial of my legacy suddenly replaced with guilt.

Guilt? When did I start feeling that again?

_When you started caring about someone again, Anakin… _whispered a voice from the depths of the Force.

_Who **dares** call me by that name? It no longer holds any meaning for me! _I thundered through the Force, my guilt driven from me by the sheer fury sweeping through what veins I had left.

_You should listen to your son, Anakin … it's the name of your true self, as he said… _The voice sounded amused at my anger. _For only being a half-trained Padawan, he's more in tune with you than anyone ever was…If **he** could feel the conflict in you —_

_There **IS** no conflict! _Gods, whoever this was just wouldn't let up!

_Sure, Anakin… Just keep telling yourself that… So are you also going to deny the fact that you feel absolutely miserable about having to turn your flesh and blood over to the one being you despise more than yourself?_

I had to admit: that fact curdled me deeper than I'd thought possible.

_It is his destiny to join me… We were meant to be together, father and son, on the same side, not opposing each other like this…_

_Of **course** it is! Any idiot with a midi-chlorian count higher than 1 can recognize that! But have you considered the possibility that it's **you** who was meant to turn back, and not your son to the Dark Side?_

Those words stunned me to the core. For the past 24 years, I'd ensured that the entire galaxy shared my anguish over the loss of those I'd cared about the most. Padmé… my mother… even Obi-Wan (my brother Obi-Wan, the friend and mentor whose side I'd fought next to on countless occasions; not the uncaring, wife-stealing Jedi Master who'd maimed me and left me for dead on Mustafar)… I'd sacrificed everything I'd ever held dear to that miserable wretch Palpatine, only to watch in impotent rage as he took that sacrifice and utterly defiled it in his never-ending quest for "unlimited power", as he'd called it that day in his public meeting office all those many years ago.

_And now, you're going to give him your son…as if your "master" deserved anything more from you…_

_Who are **YOU** to tell me what my master deserves from me?_ That was a purely reflexive response on my part; I'd spent so many years of my life serving Palpatine, it came naturally to me to subordinate my will and desires to his.

_And in doing that, Anakin, you've sacrificed something greater than all your loved ones: your soul…_

Well **THAT** was a no-brainer… I knew my soul was forfeit the moment that Master Windu had flown out of the window that windy night so long ago. I sealed and signed the Faustian deal with the blood of the Jedi that I'd killed, starting with the Temple residents and ending with Obi-Wan.

_So tell me, Anakin: was it worth it?_

It wasn't. Even I could admit that. Anakin Skywalker was a friend, a brother, a husband, a lover, a father, and a Jedi. Darth Vader, on the other hand, was fear, terror, horror, and death personified. I had taken pride in being the former (a very un-Jedi-like trait, as Obi-Wan had told me a billion times before). Being the latter brought me nothing: no pride, no joy, nothing at all to drown both my sorrows and the millions of voices I'd had a hand in ending.

The ethereal Force-voice spoke no more, and after securing Luke's lightsaber to my belt, I made my way to the command center to comm the Death Star with our return flight plan. Brooding all the while, I returned to the lift, rode it to the landing platform and boarded my shuttle, already occupied by my son and a squad of stormtroopers. Luke was secured in one of the seats amidships, facing sideways, hands cuffed in front of him with a pair of standard binders. I smiled slightly under my mask, amused that the stormtroopers felt so confident that my son only needed a pair of ordinary binders to keep him secured. Then again, Luke had had plenty of opportunities to try and escape, but hadn't taken them. Obviously, escape was not his plan.

As I settled in for the short flight, I tried to immerse myself in the Dark Side, to prepare myself for what lied ahead, but my connection was faltering. Through my Force sense, I could feel wave after wave of bright Light energy rolling off my son. I sat back in my seat, floored by the contained power my son possessed. I found I could read Luke like an open book, his emotions and mind releasing their worries through and to the Force. Even as a Sith Lord, I'd never quite gotten the hang of meditation, and here, my son, not 2 meters across from me, is proving to be a master at it equivalent to Yoda.

_I guess "like father, like son" doesn't apply here, eh Anakin?_ That damnable voice was back, and at the worst possible time, too. I bit back a harsh reply, releasing my frustration into the Force. I saw a slight flinch in the corner of Luke's face; he could feel my anger and frustration. Watching him defend himself against my emotional release angered me more, causing him to defend even more. The stormtroopers were oblivious to this Force battle being fought between Luke and me, his Light versus my Dark.

_I have no desire to fight you, Father…_ My son's voice rang strong in my mind. _Let go of the anger…_

_It's no longer that simple for me, my son…_Just calling him that eased some of my ire.

_It **is** that simple, Father… Believe that I love you, in spite of everything…_

In a flash, my mind's eye flashed to that damned day on Mustafar, when a certain brown-haired Senator, Anakin's wife, had said almost the same thing to me. Those words, spoken then, hadn't even cracked the veneer that was Darth Vader then. Now, however, spoken from the mind of the product of Anakin and Padme's love, the words made as deep an impression as the anonymous voice from beyond.

My ire subsided, and I relaxed in the Force, waiting for my shuttle to land on the Death Star-2. I could feel Luke return from his meditation, gathering his wits in preparation to meet the Emperor. Of course, that old crone thought to take him as his new apprentice, as if the Chosen One wasn't good enough for him, as if all the sacrifices I'd made over the past 2 decades weren't enough for him.

We landed, and as I escorted my son to the express turbo-lift that ran directly to the Emperor's throne room, I could only smile to myself, knowing that whatever Palpatine had in mind for Luke and me, was not going to come to fruition….


End file.
